Saving Me
by Telemachos
Summary: Every once in a while, our small worlds of bliss are interrupted by episodes of hopeless grief and despair. It is in those times, more than ever, that we learn to count on our loved ones to hold on to life and to love. LJ.


**You Saved Me**

Summary: Every once in a while, our small worlds of bliss are interrupted by episodes of hopeless grief and despair. It is in those times, more than ever, that we learn to count on our loved ones to hold on to life and to love.

Disclaimer: Everything you read past this point belongs to JKR.

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The sun rose above the houses, sending shards of fragile light into the westward facing windows. A light breeze tousled the locks of the neat maple trees that lined the edge of the paved street, their soft green leaves highlighted and defined by sky's bloody light. Out of the comforting shadow of the enormous pine tree forest that lay opposite the secluded road, a lone dear stepped onto the sidewalk, blinking as it stared at the sign that labeled the street as "Coney Avenue".

The deer edged further out of the trees to stand just outside the perimeter of the street, its gaze now fixed on the numbers on the houses. Any chance passerby would have seen that the deer had an impressive set of antlers fixated on its head, but as it was, there weren't any people out at such early a time.

The deer, or stag, as its antlers clearly demonstrated, began walking purposefully towards a large white house with a colorful flower garden. As it neared the picket fence that surrounded the property, a new set of lights and the soft purring of a car motor announced the arrival of an automobile.

The small black car pulled over to the side of the road and a slim girl with coppery red hair jumped out of the driver's seat and ran over to the stag.

"James?" she said tentatively as the stag stepped back, blinking in the light. "James, is that you?"

The stag tossed its head and sighed deeply before drawing back again, its head shrinking and its body pulling itself off the ground. In a matter of seconds, the stag had transformed into a tall, handsome dark-haired boy with wire-rimmed glasses and intense hazel eyes. The redhead ran over to him and embraced him tightly. He wrapped his arms around her as she ran her hands through his hair, neither of them saying anything as they simply stood there, bathed in the morning light. After a few minutes had passed, though, the boy broke the silence and said,

"I got there too late."

The girl drew back and stared at him, her eyes moist, and whispered, "Oh God, James, I'm so sorry…"

James kept his gaze over the top of her head in a futile attempt to keep his eyes dry. His voice sounded listless as he said, "It was all gone. The house, the stables, the greenhouse…Even the grounds and the pond where dried up. Everything was just…dead."

"James, look at me. It wasn't your fault," the girl said. He made no reply. She grabbed James' hands and pressed to her own, noticing that they were shaking with suppressed rage and sorrow. "You couldn't have done anything, even if you were there when it happened. _Neither _of us could have done anything if Voldemort was there." He still refused to look at her. "James, _look at me_!"

He finally wrenched his eyes off the top of a distant hill and looked down. Her green eyes were burning with emotion, but there was a hard determination burning there that was one of the reasons that he had first fallen in love with her. A sudden urge to speak, to _tell_ someone, came to him.

"The neighbors contacted the office with a message for me to say that something was wrong, that there was smoke coming from our direction. I—" His voice broke and he looked up, tears welling in his eyes. "I didn't think it was anything to worry about. I always thought that if anyone came, it would just be a few Death Eaters, not _him_. I thought they could put up a fight, but when I got there…"

The girl's gaze wavered as he spoke, but she held his eyes with her own, encouraging him to go on.

"When I got there, everything was gone. There weren't even bodies, Lily, everything was just _gone_. It was like someone had gone through and just _erased _twelve generations." A small sob escaped his lips as he looked back down at Lily, who had tears streaming out of the corners of her eyes.

"Did you tell Sirius?" she asked softly. James looked down at the ground.

"The Ministry contacted him when I told them to, right after I left. He got there five minutes after I did, expecting a fight. He—he broke down. Lily, I've never, ever seen him so dead and _powerless_. You know that my parents took care of him when he was disowned for a year and a half, and even after he moved out they helped him out. He was like a second son to them, and they were his substitute parents, making up for what he never had." James' eyes were overbright as he said this, but he didn't cry. He just kept talking, as if it were a huge relief to get his emotions out.

"I've never felt so helpless in my life. I wanted to find Voldemort and kill him, make him feel every ounce of pain that I felt, but I knew I wouldn't stand a chance. I just stood there and _cried_. I think it was that, more than anything, that caused Sirius to snap out of it. The only time I've ever cried in front of him was when I got the news that my sister died. He took me home to my flat and stayed there the whole night and sat with me. I left around six this morning to meet you."

Lily reached up and put a cool hand on his cheek, her fingers caressing his skin in soft, gentle strokes. "It's okay now, James. I'm here," she murmured. He unconsciously looped his fingers through hers and closed his eyes tightly to block out his tears.

"James," she said gently. He opened his eyes. "It's okay to cry. It's okay to feel sadness and guilt and anger. You don't have to block it out." She gave him what she hoped was a confident smile. "I'm here for you." Her eyes caught his and held them for a moment before he enveloped her into another desperate hug, tears streaming silently down his face to cascade into her shoulder. She rocked him soothingly, whispering, "It's okay, it's okay," over and over to him until he finally drew away and smiled at her.

"Thank you," he said quietly. She didn't say anything back, merely smiled at him, but he knew that she understood that some feelings were just too deep to put into words.

It was that day, that cold, early morning in August, that James Potter finally realized it. He _loved_ Lily Evans. He loved her more than he ever thought he could have loved anyone. She saved him, that day, she gave him the means to go on. She gave him hope, and he never wanted to lose that.

He never wanted to lose _her_.

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Ugh, well, I'm not too happy about the beginning. But frankly, I'm tired, I'm depressed, and I have two tests to study for. So this is what you get.

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